


Teenage Bonnie and Clyde

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: Death, F/M, school shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 04:44:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12623476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Tate and Violet plan the school shooting together.





	Teenage Bonnie and Clyde

Lying on the roof, their fingers were laced together loosely, both staring into the night sky. Tate looked over to his right, watching Violet for a moment. As if she felt eyes on her, she looked at him and gave him a small smile. “Hey, Violet?” He asked softly.

“Yeah?”

“You think it’s possible for people like us to be happy?” His left hand was resting on his stomach, looking more relaxed than she knew he was.

Letting go of his hand, she rolled to her side, and propped herself up on her elbow. “I know we can.” There was no uncertainty in her voice. That was one thing she’d never question.

“How?” Tate’s eyes locked on hers, almost like he was searching for an unspoken answer.

She smirked. “Because we have each other.” Her fingers ran through his hair, and then her fingertips traced down over his jaw.

Finally, he smiled. The one that only she really saw. Tate turned his head, kissing her fingers lightly. “We still on for tomorrow?” He asked, rolling to his side to lean on his elbow like her. His eyes searched her face for any doubt. If she wasn’t in, he wasn’t, either. As much planning as they did, as many times as they went over those said plans, and as bad as he wanted this…the whole thing was worthless without her.

“Have I ever let you down?”

He pretended to think, tapping his chin. “You _did_ miss my 7th birthday party.” Tate laughed as she shoved him lightly on his shoulder.

Violet stuck her tongue out at him. “Okay, that wasn’t my fault! I had the chicken pox!” She reminded him. “And fuck, man, that was ten years ago!” Rolling back to her back, she laughed when he put his hands by her shoulders, looking down at her. “You’re such a loser.” She teased.

Tate feigned shock. “What does that make you?” He countered. “You’ve been my best friend since before you wore a training bra, and my girlfriend for almost as long.”

It was her turn to pretend to think. “Lucky.” She cupped his cheek and pulled him down into a kiss. He smiled into it, moving so that he was leaning his weight on his right arm, his left hand moving to grip her hip.

* * *

Violet was anxious, but kept it down. She drove them to school that morning, and pretended like she was parking as usual. Leaning over, he pulled her into a deep kiss, resting his forehead on hers. He smirked at her as his eyes locked on hers. “I don’t hate you.” He teased.

“I don’t hate you more.” Violet chuckled. “I’ll be there.” She reassured him. Biting her lip, she watched her boyfriend slip out of the car. His blonde locks a stark contrast to his black knee length trench coat that covered the black jeans that fit him just right, all finished off with his black boots.

Second period was already well under way, leaving the halls mostly empty. There’d be stragglers, but no one to fret about. Violet chewed on her lip, not moving the car until he was passed those doors. She was going to park around the back, in a part of the lot that wasn’t used anymore. He’d slip out, get in, and the two of you were gone. For good.

As soon as those door closed behind him, Violet pulled out of the parking space, and away from the front of their high school. Her radio was on low as she made her way to the exact spot they had agreed to meet, and put the car in park. While they had run over as many possible scenarios together, trying to figure out an average time for everything to play out, there was no way to know.

Leaving her car running, she leaned over to her glove compartment and pulled out the small gun he’d given her a few weeks prior.

_“I have something for you.” He grinned like the Cheshire cat, sitting on the side of her bed in just his boxers._

_She laughed. “You mean besides your body?”_

_He smirked. “Best present of all, babe.” Tate winked, making her bite her lip. Pulling out a smaller sized box, he handed it to her. “Open it.” He gestured to the present._

_Quickly, she pulled off the simple red ribbon and pulled the top off. Inside, nestled on black tissue paper, was a silver gun. Right underneath the barrel were a handful of bullets, placed just so. Her eyes went up to him. “A gun?” She asked, a small smile on her face._

_“Like I’d go through this without knowing you can defend yourself.” His expression changed, a dark looking taking over at the thought of anyone hurting her. “Promise me something, Violet.” She simply nodded, a serious look on her face, as well. “Anyone so much as gives you a bad feeling, or gets in our way- blow their fucking brains out.”_

_Violet put the box on the nightstand. “I promise.” She knelt next to him and kissed his shoulder, her hand going over his shoulder blades._

Setting that right next to her right leg, slightly tucked under, she lit herself a cigarette. She let her head fall back, her eyes closing as she blew the smoke from her mouth. Hearing a tapping on her window, she opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at the security guard. With a smile, she rolled down her window. “Can I help you….Robert?” She asked, reading his nametag.

“You can’t park here, and this is a no smoking zone.” He pointed out, discourteously. She couldn’t help but notice how bad his teeth were. Did they not pay him enough to care about oral hygiene?

“Is that so?” Violet asked, feigning to care. “Can I ask you something?” She tilted her head to the side.

He sighed, clearly bored. “What?” Robert snapped.

Her right hand slid just over the handle of her gun as she smiled sweetly. “Is it a no killing zone, as well?” She asked, using her most genteel voice.

Robert’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What? You need to get your ass inside to class. Now.” He ordered, figuring she was just being a smart ass.

“I don’t do well taking orders from assholes.” She shrugged before pointing her gun at him and pulling the trigger. Looking at the ground where he fell, she made a face. “I was hoping that would enhance your face.” She mused, putting her gun back down before rolling up her window.

Tate moved through the halls with ease, no indication that he had nefarious intentions. No one stopped him, why would they? He was just another student, wandering the halls. Seeing the first classroom off to his left, he made his way towards it.

As he opened the door, the teacher turned. “Tate?” He asked, confused.

Instead of an answer, all he received were four bullets to the chest, causing a panic in the others. He didn’t bother to aim, just shooting in places that they seemed to be scattering towards. As he left that room, he didn’t see a single person not bleeding.

One classroom after another he went. Sure, he skipped a few, not caring, but that didn’t mean he didn’t plan to do his worst. His boots echoed, the sounds mixing in with the screams of his classmates, doors being slammed, shots fired, and a slew of other random noises.

His feet were leading him straight to the library. That right there held a promise of a few victims. As he caught sight of the doors, Tate saw someone run in, likely to warn the others, to try to save themselves. Little did they know it was futile.

He chuckled lightly to himself as he realized that at times, the shots sounded like a tire blowing out inside the school halls. Tate figured that’d be something that they wouldn’t think in their last moments.

Reaching the side entrance to the library, he slowly began turning the handle, heightening the suspense. Just as he was about to swing the door open, the handle wouldn’t turn anymore. That right there told him someone was holding the door shut, which was a problem that was easily solved.

Tate stepped back a couple feet, aimed, and fired. The screams from the girls inside told him he was right. Pushing the door with the back of the hand that gripped his pistol, he stepped through. There was an ease to how he moved. Not a care in the world, as if this was just another day.

Just to spice things up a bit, he wet his lips, and started to whistle. Pausing, he swore he heard breathing, so he shoved some books. Once again, he was right when he heard a high pitched scream. Turning the corner, he looked down at the girl crouching there. “Do you believe in God?” He asked, his voice low.

She nodded. “Yes.” She sobbed.

Holding up his gun, his finger pulled the trigger, not even flinching. Without missing a beat, he resumed his pacing around the library. His pistol now tucked away, shotgun in hand. Between two of the couches, was his next target. If he’d really had any, that was. “Please, no!” He tried to back away as Tate pointed the shotgun at him. The next thing that was heard through the library was the shot that killed him.

Tate strolled around the desk that the librarian would sit at, keeping order. No order now, was there? Seeing the boy with the glasses, trying to call for help, he clenched his jaw, and blew half of his face off.

His back was turned when another voice was heard, right after Tate cocked the shotgun, a shell hitting the ground. “Hey.” His voice shook with fear. “That’s enough, get out of here.” He tried to look strong, and tough, but he didn’t for long. His body was flung back from the close range shot.

A muffled cry caught his attention, from right behind the now dead jock. Cocking his gun once more, he walked towards the direction it came from. “Oh, God.” She said, failing to be all that quiet. Her sobbing grew louder as his feet neared, her hand over her mouth. “Oh, God.” Fell from her lips, over and over. God wasn’t with her then.

His fingers gripped the table that was bolted to the floor, ripping it up with ease. Lack of attention over the years made them weak. The table fell on end, behind the terrified cheerleader, a scream escaping her. Her hands went up on instinct, and she dared to look at her shooter. “Why?!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. There was no emotion on his, the only thing she saw was a bit of blood splatter.

The last one living in the room coward before him, begging. “Please.” With no indication that he’d heard, he shot her in the head. 

* * *

Violet would glance at the door every now and then, wanting to be prepared. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Tate emerged. She watched as he strolled over to the car, his face slowly relaxing as he got closer. He slipped his coat off, using it the cover the guns in the back. “Drive.” Was all he said once he was in the car.

Pulling out of the parking lot, they both remained silent. There was no telling how long until their faces would be plastered all over the television. She may not have been in the school during the actual shooting, but everyone knew. Find Violet, and you’d find Tate.

Once they were on the highway, they both relaxed. “We’re free.” She told him with a small smile. They each had a bag packed in the trunk, both having been placed there the week before.

Tate turned on the radio, licking his lips. “This way we know when they start looking for us.” He told her. “Then we lay low for a bit.” His voice was smooth, and calming.

* * *

_‘Authorities are advising caution. Tate Langdon and Violet Harmon should be considered armed and dangerous. They warn against engaging with them, and urge you to call your local police department._

_After the shooting at…’_

“Well.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Pull off this exit, babe.” Tate pointed to the exit coming up in just half a mile.

They had driven around for twenty minutes before passing the old abandoned house, calling out to them. It looked like a damn good place to hide for now. Who would look there?

Violet parked a couple streets over, not wanting to park right in front. Tate grabbed the guns, wrapping them in his coat, and Violet took the bags. They did their best to look like they were simply walking along, not wanting to draw too much attention to themselves.

Tate let them around the side of the house that was more blocked off and busted in a window for them. Using his coat to shield his hand, he broke off the remaining shards of glass, listening to them shatter against the floor.

Using his hands, he hoisted Violet in first, passed her the bags, then the guns, and pulled himself up. As soon as he was through the window, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him close. Her other arm went around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They kissed roughly for a moment before their grinning caused them to pull apart. “Let’s find us a room, babe.” He smirked, his voice low.

Each of them grabbed something, and moved away from the now broken window. Both anxious to hide deeper in the house, and be in each other’s arms. Tate let her lead the way, following close behind. She brought them into the first room they came to, putting their things off to the side. “Good enough.” She breathed, watching him kick the door shut.

The guns were placed with their other bags, and then forgotten. He pulled her shirt over her head before his hands felt her bare skin, holding her close against him.

* * *

Violet woke up with her back against Tate’s chest, his breath on her neck. Smiling softly to herself, she gently slipped out of their makeshift bed and stretched. “Now that’s a sight.” Tate chuckled, still half asleep. “Come back to bed.” He yawned, rolling to his back.

She smiled at him. “Can I at least use the bathroom?” She teased.

“Fine. I guess.” He pouted playfully.

Shaking her head, she grabbed his shirt and a pair of her underwear and slipped them on. Her bare feet were quiet as she moved to the bathroom, the air still slightly stale from the house being shut up so long.

Violet froze when she walked into the bedroom. Red and blue lights were lighting up the room. “Tate!” She rushed to his side, shaking him. “Tate, wake up!” She hissed.

Finally, he slowly opened his eyes, letting them fall shut again. They snapped right back open. “Fuck.” He reached over, grabbing his boxers and pulling them on. Standing up, she looked towards the door, hearing their boots.

Just as Tate was by her side, his fingers laced with hers, the door burst in. Red dots were trained on both of their chests, a SWAT team in full gear. “I don’t hate you.” He said softly.

A loving smile formed on her lips. “I don’t hate you more.” She replied, closing her eyes.

Tate moved as if he was going to grab a weapon from under what he’d used as a pillow. He wasn’t even halfway there when bullets flew through the air, shaking both their bodies before the fell to the ground. Their hands were still touching each other, though they’d stopped breathing.

* * *

Sitting on the roof of their new home, Violet had her knees up to her chest. “Hey, Tate?” She asked gently.

“Yeah?” His eyes were trained on the horizon.

Her eyes turned to look at her blonde boyfriend. “Do you think it’s possible for us to be happy forever?”

Tate smirked, looking over at her. “Always.” He reached over, taking her hand. “We’ll never be apart.”

Hearing that, she smiled. “There’s no one else I’d want to be stuck with here, than you.”

He laughed, not caring that the other resident ghosts of the house were around there somewhere. Violet and Tate kept to themselves mostly, but there were a few of the others they didn’t mind too much.

The sounds of a truck stopping made them get up and move up far enough to see a moving truck. With a smirk, Tate licked his lips. “Ready to have some fun?” He asked, both of them watching the new owners of the murder house walk up the front sidewalk.


End file.
